Neverland
by AbsentAngel
Summary: Neverland is more than a place of adventure and eternal youth. To Lucy, Neverland is home. [Neverland AU] [NaLu]
1. Chapter 1

_._

 _._

 _"There was a time when I was alone_

 _Nowhere to go and no place to call home_

 _My only friend was the man in the moon_

 _And even sometimes he would go away, too_

 _Then one night, as I closed my eyes,_

 _I saw a shadow flying high_

 _He came to me with the sweetest smile_

 _Told me he wanted to talk for awhile_

 _He said, "Peter Pan. That's what they call me._

 _I promise that you'll never be lonely."_

 _-"Lost Boy", Ruth B._

* * *

 **(:)(A)(:)**

 **Neverland**

 **Chapter One**

 **(:)(A)(:)**

* * *

The first time she sees him she thinks she is dreaming. He is a mere shadow dancing on the moon, his silhouette growing bigger and bigger until he is framed by her bedroom window with a back drop of inky night and bright stars. She blinks, slow and with eyes still heavy with sleep, and he is gone.

In the morning she thinks that the vision of a pink haired boy must be derived from her loneliness.

The house she grew up in is no longer the home she once knew. It hasn't been since her mother died. The bustling household has turned stale, the rooms quiet. Mrs. Spetto, her governess, has been fired - the cook as well. The maid only comes once a week now, to dust and do her father's laundry. Lucy looks forward to her visits, even though she is ignored in favor of getting chores done. It breaks up the monotony of her days.

At night, usually after dark, her father comes home. He doesn't say hello, doesn't ask about her day, instead he walks up the stairs and to his study. He shuts the door behind him. He goes to bed after she has fallen asleep, and leaves for work - or wherever else he goes - before she wakes. She can't remember the last time they had a conversation. The most she ever hears from him is the sound of his pen scratching against parchment that leaks through the cracks in the copper keyhole.

Still, she is lucky. She is not blind to the children begging outside her front door. She sees them, filthy and dressed in rags, through her bedroom window. She knows that while she is housed by a roof and ornately decorated walls, their home consists of alleyways and makeshift boxes. Many of their lungs are blackened by soot and coal from working at the factories, she can hear it in the way some of the older children cough. As lonely as she is, she knows things can be far, far worse.

Still - she knows that things can be far better as well.

Today the maid doesn't come, and Lucy is alone. She fills up the hours by dressing herself in her finer clothes and by doing her hair up the way her mother once taught her (a complex series of braids that leave her hands numb by the time she is finished). When she is done she admires herself in the mirror and reminds herself that, surely, one day soon she will be able to twirl for someone other than her reflection. Eventually she makes her way to the library that used to be her mother's. She lets her fingers skim the titles, ghosting across the leather bound spines, and settles for whichever one feels right.

When the daylight begins to fade she marks her page with a ribbon, and places the story back alongside its brethren. Then she goes upstairs to her room, untangles herself from her fine silks and matching heeled boots and pulls the white laced nightgown over her head. As she brushes the tangles from her hair she listens for the opening and closing of the front door below. Once she used to wait for her father - dressed in all her finery - at the bottom of the staircase, but experience has taught her to save herself the effort.

She sets the silver brush (her mother's) down on the vanity before beginning to weave her blonde strands into two twin braids. She wonders if the strange boy will appear again in her dreams tonight. She can't say that she would mind if he did.

She slips in between the sheets until she is thoroughly tucked up to her chest. August has brought heat during the days, but the nights have remained cool. As she reaches towards her bedside table with the intent to turn off the lamp, she pauses.

Her window is open - the gauzy curtains swaying in the summer breeze. Cautiously, she pulls her covers away and steps from her bed. Nervous energy buzzes beneath her skin as she puts the comfort of her sheets behind her. She does not remember opening the window. In fact, she is sure that she hasn't. Her fingers brush against the white wooden frame, her eyes inspecting the metal latch. It is in perfect condition – there is even a fine layer of dust to stand testament that it has not been touched in quite some time. She frowns, running a clean finger over the metal and murmuring under her breath, "How-?"

"What are you doing?"

She jumps, a hand flying to her heart while the other grips the window frame to steady herself. Behind her is a boy - the boy she saw in her dreams - only now, with the help of her lamp light, she can see him clearly. He looks to be her age, certainly not a day over seventeen. His skin is tan, and across his nose and cheeks is the dusting of freckles. The shockingly pink (and very much untamed) hair tickling his ears assures her that he is indeed the same boy she dreamed of the previous night. "But I'm awake," she blurts, eyeing his strange clothes. He must be a foreigner. None of the London boys would wear such a green tunic. They certainly wouldn't expose their legs in such a way.

He blinks, tilting his head and regarding her curiously. "You're kinda weird, huh?"

Indignation flares, all but erasing her earlier cautions. "I beg your pardon!? I certainly am not! You're the one breaking into a lady's room at such an inappropriate hour! And when I'm in my night clothes! You should be ashamed, sir! My father -!"

His feet lift from the ground, and before she knows it his face is mere inches from her own. Startled, she sucks in a breath and wills her heart to slow. He is inspecting her so closely, she wonders if his eyes (green she notices - the color of forest moss) can see the slight tremble in her limbs. "How - how did you do that?" She whispers, the fear she felt earlier coming back ten fold. "What are you?"

Again he tilts his head and, after inspecting her for a few moments longer, he leans back until his toes hover only a few mere inches from the ground. "I'm Natsu." She waits, expecting him to elaborate. Instead, he continues to stare at her - expectant. After a few moments, he breaks the awkward silence. "This is the part where you tell me _your_ name."

She sputters, unsure if she should feel embarrassed by her own rudeness or irritated by his. When his wild hair parts, revealing what appears to be a miniature blue cat, she jumps. When, after a dramatic yawn, the cat _talks_ , she has to bite back a scream.

"I think maybe this one is just stupid, Natsu."

Natsu frowns, seeming to contemplate. "I don't think so. She talks pretty smart."

"That's because I am smart!" she snaps, lost somewhere between shock and indignation. "I can read and write better than most the other girls my age! And I'll have you know that I've read every book in my mother's library! Some of them even twice!"

Natsu looks both impressed and excited. The grin he gives her is so eager that his cheek dimples on one side. "You've read that many?! You must know a lot of great stories!" Lucy swells with pride - she does indeed know a good deal of stories - but before she can assure him, he glances up to where the cat is still nestled between his bangs. "See, Happy? She's just weird is all."

"Aye!" the cat chirps.

Lucy wants to argue, but stops herself with a shake of her head. It would be silly. "I'm dreaming," she says – mostly to her self. "I must have fallen asleep without realizing it. You – both of you – are just a figment of my imagination." She walks past them, catching their offended look as she begins the process of tucking herself back in.

"Are not!" Natsu exclaims, flying over and hovering over her bed to glare down at her. "We're just as real as you are!"

She props herself up on her elbows, refusing to be intimidated. "You're _flying,"_ she says dryly, "Your hair is _pink_. And you have a tiny talking cat. You are most definitely _not_ real."

"My hair ain't pink! It's _salmon_!"

"Yeah, and I'm not a cat!"

Lucy ignores them, letting her head fall back onto her pillow before turning onto her side and pulling the covers up to her cheek. Stubbornly, she closes her eyes and tells herself that perhaps if she falls asleep in her dream she may wake back up in the real world. Something else nags at her though, something she feels the need to say. "Besides," she murmurs into her sheets, "If you were real then Father would have heard you. He would have come up by now to make sure I am alright."

For a second the two of them are quiet, and Lucy thinks that maybe they have gone. Then, softly, she hears the cat – Happy the boy had called him – whisper, "Natsu, I don't think she knows –"

Natsu shushes him and things go silent until Lucy feels him prod her shoulder. "Hey, don't go to bed. Don't you want to go on an adventure?"

Her eyes blink open, curious despite herself. Slowly she turns to look at him, not surprised to see him still hovering over her. "What kind of adventure?"

The grin he gives her is blinding. "The best kind!"

She thinks that his answer leaves a lot to be desired, but she can't help but feel a small thrill at the thought of the unknown. She sits up and watches as the boy folds his legs and settles at her feet. He seems all too excited for her answer. "Well," she says cautiously, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt." She is only dreaming after all.

Natsu jumps up, whooping loud enough that she is sure the whole street will have heard. Before she can fully slip out of her covers, he is grabbing her hand and pulling her out of bed. "Come on, let's go!"

Lucy huffs, nearly losing her balance in the face of his rough treatment. "But, I can't go out in my night gown!"

His nose wrinkles. "Why? It looks like any regular ole dress to me."

"But it isn't -" she stops herself. It isn't proper. Her father would die if he knew. She is a terrible daughter to admit it (even if only to herself) but the thought of angering her father _pleases_ her. The thought of disobeying his strict commands makes the idea of an adventure even more exciting. She would never find the courage to rebel in the real world, but here - in this dream - she feels she has more than earned the luxury.

"Ok," she breaths, letting him lead her to the open window. She feels dizzy, almost light. She wonders if the small taste of freedom has stolen the air from her lungs and placed it beneath her feet. "Where are we going?"

Natsu grins, releasing her hand and floating out the open window. "Neverland of course!"

"Neverland?" she repeats, skeptical. She eyes the empty air beneath his feet - the sight of him flying both thrilling and unnerving at the same time. "I've never heard of such a place."

"It's only the best place ever," he boasts, chest seeming to puff with pride. "There's mermaids and pirates! And you never have to grow up or let anyone tell you what to do." He holds out an open hand, his eyes promising adventure. "Let me show you."

She licks her lips and, after only a moments hesitation, places her hand in his. In her delicate palms his hands feel rough and callused, but also oh so warm. It has been so, so long since she felt the touch of another person. Her grip tightens, not wanting to lose the feeling. Natsu doesn't seem to mind.

He glances up, his free hand plucking the cat from his pink locks and holding him in his open palm. For the first time, Lucy notices the tiny white wings perched on his back. "Alright, Happy! You know what to do!"

Happy gives a quick scratch behind the ear before giving a mock salute. "Aye Aye!" His wings flutter and in an instant he flying circles above her head - a veil of golden dust shedding from his wings and coating her hair and skin.

"He flies," she mutters, unsure if she should be surprised by anything at this point. "The tiny cat flies." She sneezes. "And sheds... dust."

Happy pauses in his flight, hovering right in front of her nose and giving her a steady glare. "I'm not a cat!" He zips away, perching on Natsu's shoulder and tugging at his ear. "Maybe she's deaf?"

Natsu rubs the feline's head with a single finger. "Nah, she just hasn't seen a pixie before!" Before Lucy can argue (because she has certainly never heard of a pixie ever looking like _that_ ) the boy is grinning down at her. "Are you ready to fly?"

Fly? Her heart stutters in her chest, but she can't be sure if it's from fear or excitement. She looks down at the ground below Natsu's feet and swallows thickly. "What if I fall?" she asks. She hates the falling dreams – hates the way she wakes feeling helpless and alone.

He takes her other hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze . "I won't let you fall. Promise."

She takes a deep breath, nodding. "Alright," she breaths, taking a trembling step forward until her slippered feet are balancing on the sill. She can't be sure if the trembling in her limbs is due to the cool summer breeze or concealed terror. She tears her gaze away from the ground and Natsu's eyes are there to catch her - his hold on her hands ever steady. "Alright," she repeats – firmer this time. "What do I do?"

"Just think happy thoughts!" he chirps, "It's easy!"

Happy thoughts? She thinks of the past few years – of the secluded days spent with only inked pages for company and of the even lonelier nights – and her shoulders sag. The fear she felt earlier is quickly chased away by disappointment. Even thinking of the times before, times with her mother, are tinged with too much pain to ever bring her joy. Every happy moment in her life has been tainted by the misery she lives with now. "I... I can't think of any," she admits, feeling almost ashamed as tears threaten to spill from the corners of her eyes.

Slowly Natsu's smile fades into something that looks more like pity. "Not one?" When she shakes her head she can feel him hesitate. "Well, what about playing in the leaves in the fall? Or the mud? Doesn't that make you happy?"

Lucy laughs, but it is a brittle sound. "Father doesn't allow those things. It is not proper for a young lady like myself," she says, parroting the words she has heard her entire life. She gives Natsu as much of a smile she can muster. "I'm sorry. I guess I can't come on an adventure with you after all." Her gaze moves to Happy, who is both silent and looking between her and Natsu with concern. "I'm sorry you wasted your pixie dust."

The tiny feline opens his mouth to say something, but Natsu speaks first. "Happy? Why don't you go on ahead, yeah?" After a moments hesitation the pixie nods, giving her one last glance before disappearing into the night; blending in with the stars until his light flickers away from her sight.

Lucy looks down at their joined hands, knowing that she should let him go but unable to summon the courage to do so. She doesn't know how long it will be before she has someone to talk to again, let alone touch.

He gives her hands a firm squeeze. "Guess that just means we're going to have to make some," he says, sounding far more chipper than she feels. She she gives him a curious (albeit hopeful) look, and he moves her hands until they are joined behind his neck. She doesn't even have time to be embarrassed before he is giving her a wide grin. "Just hold on tight, and I'll do the flying for both of us. Ok?"

Hope blooms in her chest and she nods furiously, lacing her fingers together behind his neck as he scoops her up and into his arms. She is so happy she can hardly find the words to speak. She needs this. She needs this dream so desperately, she is certain she will die without it. So when he looks down at her and asks if she's ready, Lucy knows the answer. The fear of never flying far outweighs her fear of falling. "Yes."

He pushes off the window sill and suddenly they are shooting up into the air with such speed that she wonders if sparks are flying from his feet. She looks down and sees the city she grew up in, the windows shining with warm light that makes them look like stars. She has never seen it look more beautiful.

"You know," Natsu says, the humor in his voice tangling with the wind rushing past her ears, "You still haven't told me your name."

She smiles, abandoning the view of city below to look up at him. He looks just as he did in her her dream – hair wild and framed with stars. "Lucy," she tells him, "My name is Lucy."

* * *

 **AN:** I may have been listening to Ruth B's "Lost Boy" on repeat lately... repeatedly. I was originally going to wait to post until I had the story complete before posting, but I totally failed and forgot about Nalu Week this week. So, in lieu of having absolutely no prompts done, I decided to go ahead an post this early. This will be a short story – only 3 (possibly 4) chapters long.

Also, the next chapter of 'Ignite' is almost complete. I hope to get it up this week or next week. :)

Please let me know your thoughts on this one (I'm kinda excited about it).


	2. Chapter 2

_._

 _._

" _He sprinkled me in pixie dust and told me to believe_

 _Believe in him and believe in me_

 _Together we will fly away in a cloud of green_

 _To your beautiful destiny_

 _As we soared above the town that never loved me_

 _I realized I finally had a family_

 _Soon enough we reached Neverland_

 _Peacefully my feet hit the sand_

 _And ever since that day_

 _I am a lost boy from Neverland_

 _Usually hanging out with Peter Pan_

 _And when we're bored we play in the woods_

 _Always on the run from Captain Hook_

 _"Run, run, lost boy, " they say to me_

 _Away from all of reality"_

 _\- "Lost Boy", Ruth B._

* * *

 **(:)(A)(:)**

 **Neverland**

 **Chapter Two**

 **(:)(A)(:)**

* * *

The sand is warm beneath her feet and, only yards away, the sea laps gently at the shore. Palm trees dot the beach, leaves rustling and coconuts clacking the breeze. It is the most tranquil scene she has ever witnessed, but it can't possibly calm the adrenaline burning through her veins – not yet.

She steps forward and reaches out to touch the ridged trunk of a nearby palm, her bare feet sinking into the sand. It feels real beneath her hands. As real as everything else. She looks back at Natsu who is eyeing her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "How is this possible?" she breathes. "Are there worlds in all the stars?" She didn't believe him when he said their destination was the second star on the right, thought he was crazy when he flew up towards the heavens instead of over the earth, but the proof is smooth beneath her fingers – warm beneath her toes.

He laces his hands behind his head and shrugs his shoulders. "Don't know. Never really felt the need to find out."

She kneels, feeling the sand warming her knees even through her nightgown. "It's amazing," she breathes, grabbing a handful of sand and letting it sift through her fingers.

Natsu gives her a baffled look. "Yeah, I guess. If sand is your thing."

She pauses, sending him a puzzled look of her own. "What? No, not the _sand_!" She is amazed by _all_ of it – by the vividness and texture, the depth and complexity of the sounds. She is amazed that she is capable of dreaming up something so _wonderful_. "Never mind," she says, shaking her head. She doesn't feel like taking the time to explain herself. Besides, she already sees something else of interest coasting along the shoreline. "Oh, are they your friends?"

Natsu looks over his shoulder, stiffening at the sight of the ship cutting through the water. "Ah crap," he mutters, grabbing her hand and hauling her back into his arms. "Time to go!"

She is about to inquire why he is in such a hurry to leave, but as his feet push off the sand she hears the boom of a cannon and – shortly after – the sickening crack of the palm tree she had just been investigating. She yelps, her hold tightening on his neck. "What on Earth–!" she exclaims, shock tightening her body like a bowstring. "They could have killed us!"

Natsu doesn't respond, instead he puts more distance between themselves and the ground. His ascent only slows once they are high above the ship. "Nice try old man!" he crows, seeming far too amused to be healthy considering they were nearly blown to bits. "I think your aim's getting worse!"

On deck she can just barely make out the scowl of an older gentleman shaking his fist up at them. The ornate hat sitting atop his head tells her he is the captain of the vessel below them, but his short stature seems more comical than frightening. "Boy, I'm going to pull you apart limb from limb and feed you to the gator!"

Natsu grins. "Gotta catch me first!" The pirate captain answers back with curses so fowl that Lucy finds herself turning red from embarrassment, but Natsu only laughs and gives him a mocking wave. "See ya later, Captain!" he shouts, flying off and away with a speed that causes the winds whistle to disguise any retort the pirate may have flung after them.

Lucy spots the splintered tree on the beach and shivers. "What a horrible old man!"

Natsu looks down at her, seeming surprised by her evaluation. "Who? Mackorav? Ah, he's not so bad! He's mostly just talk anyway. He's _way_ too scared of crocodiles to get close enough to feed me to one!"

Lucy isn't so convinced. "He sounded very cross with you."

He gives a little laugh – Lucy thinks it sounds guilty. "Yeah... mighta accidentally set fire to his ship a time or two," he says, giving her a sheepish grin.

She raises an eyebrow, beginning to understand why the captain lobbed that cannonball their way. "Or _two_?"

"Well, yeah," he says, almost defensively. "All the other times we just sunk it."

Lucy remains silent, suddenly feeling lucky that he managed to leave her home intact and undamaged during his short stay.

She looks down at the dense jungle below them, entranced by the way their shadows dance across the tree tops. The island is large enough to be inhabited, but small enough that (from their vantage point) she can view most of it. The only part of the landscape that escapes her curious gaze is hiding behind the single lone mountain sitting proudly at the islands center. The land is wild and untamed – Lucy can see no evidence of civilization. No buildings, no structures – not even a clearing.

So, naturally, she is baffled when Natsu begins to descend – the thick, leafy branches rising up and swallowing them until only pinpricks of sky remain. "I don't understand. I thought we were going to your home?"

Her inquiry is met with an odd look. "Silly Lucy! This _is_ home!" His feet touch the forest floor with more grace than she thought he was capable of (especially with how carelessly he releases her moments later).

She staggers, her knees nearly buckling in surprise as she suddenly finds herself on her own two feet. Feeling the carpet of leaves beneath her toes, she wishes she had thought to have brought her slippers. She gives another, more careful look at her surroundings, but all she sees is a tangle of jungle leaves and thick mossy vines. One tree, obviously long since deceased, stands out as being the grandest. It's smooth bark is as pale as her mother's marble headstone and its trunk is so wide that she thinks, perhaps, her father's study could fit in its base. It is as beautiful as it is haunting.

Natsu takes her hand, leading her closer to massive tree. The smirk he gives her is full of mischief as he pushes aside a particularly large leafed plant and reveals a small hollow at the base of the trunk. "Ready to be a Lost Boy?"

"I'm a girl," she murmurs, too fascinated to be irritated. Her fingers trace the ridged opening, surprised to find the wood smooth and worn – almost polished.

"So?" He asks, seeming genuinely perplexed. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Too much, she thinks. If she were born a boy then her days would be spent with her father learning how to run the family business instead of waiting to be auctioned off to a man with a prolific portfolio and a heavy checkbook. Somehow she knows Natsu won't understand – how could he when he is surrounded by so much freedom and born with the privileges that come with being born a boy?

She quickly changes the subject, fingers picking lazily at the bark. "You _really_ live in a tree?" she asks, curious.

"Well, yeah," he says, as if it were obvious. "Who would want to live in a boring ole' house when you can live in a tree!" When she still looks skeptical, he gives her a nudge. "Go and see for yourself!"

She hesitates, looking down at her white nightgown. Curiosity proves to be worth more than her pristine clothing though, and she soon finds herself kneeling in the dirt and crawling through the opening. She can feel her shoulders brushing against the wood, and suddenly understands how the ridges came to be so smooth.

She expects to be greeted by darkness, but instead finds streams of light filtering in from small holes towards the top of the tree. She stands, brushing the dirt from her knees and stares at the carvings and paintings along the wooden walls in wonder. She hears the echo of laughter bouncing within the large space before being swallowed up by the ancient wood, but when she looks around she can find no source for the sound.

She feels Natsu step beside her. "Pretty neat, huh?"

Lucy nods. It is amazing, but still – "You sleep here? On the ground?" She supposed she shouldn't be too surprised.

"Nah," he says, moving past her. "That's all downstairs!"

Downstairs? Puzzled, she parts her lips to ask but his dimpled grin makes her pause. He brings his foot down in quick succession and Lucy is shocked to find the sound to be wooden and hollow – like the knocking on a door. Shortly after, there is an answering thump from beneath Natsu's feet and he steps aside just as a trap door rises up – wooden and so obvious she doesn't understand how she could have missed it – and reveals a small, blue haired girl no older than twelve.

"Natsu!" Her smile is beaming – adoring. It is the same look Lucy imagines many younger siblings bestow upon their elders. Her hazel eyes meet her's and a simple understanding seems to soften her lips. "Ah, so _that's_ what took you so long." She hops up, and Lucy is surprised to find that – while she is obviously a young girl – she is dressed in boys shorts. "I'm Wendy," she says, offering her hand almost shyly.

It is not the customary way of introducing oneself (not for a woman anyway) but so far nothing about Neverland has been. She shakes her hand gently, if not awkwardly. "It's lovely to meet you. My name is Lucy."

Wendy looks startled – almost awed. "Wow! You talk so pretty!"

Lucy flushes, not entirely sure if she should feel pleased or embarrassed. She decides it would be best to respond humbly regardless. "Ah, thank you..."

Natsu grabs her hand, excitedly pulling her towards the hatch. "Come on! There's a whole lot of other people to meet! Besides, I'm starving!"

Natsu has enough courtesy (surprisingly) to let her go down first, though his manners are short lived. The moment her toes touch the dirt floor he jumps down behind her and nearly sends her toppling over – it is only his firm grip on her arm that saves her from falling. She might have chastised him for his rudeness, but her eyes are too busy taking in the sight before her.

The space is massive – far larger than she ever could have begun to imagine – and filled with children (some her age, some younger) eating and conversing loudly over long wooden tables. The air is thick with the scent of roasted meats and cool earth. Looking around the room, Lucy comes to a very quick (and, honestly, a little unnerving) conclusion. "Wendy?" she asks softly, for the girl's ears alone. "Where are all the other girls?"

Wendy shrugs, seeming unconcerned by the very vast majority of boys. "Most of them stay on the other side of the island with Erza."

"Erza? Who is –!" She promptly finds her mouth covered, Natsu looking almost pale.

"Don't say her name!" he hisses under his breath.

Alarmed, Lucy looks to Wendy for some sort of confirmation only to find the girl giggling around her petite hand. "Natsu's scared of her."

Appearing over Natsu's shoulder, Happy snickers behind a paw. "They all are!"

Natsu sends him a dry look. "So are you!"

The feline's smile drops, suddenly looking quite solemn. "She _is_ scary."

Lucy still doesn't understand, but the rapidly growing hush that covers the large space prevents her from inquiring further. When she turns she finds more than a dozen eyes fixed on her – some curious, others skeptical. All of them seem surprised by her presence.

Natsu too notices the silence and, slinging an arm casually (and very inappropriately) over her shoulder, he cheers. "Hey everyone! This is our newest Lost Boy, Lushi!"

She scowls at him. "My name is Lucy!" she says sharply, but the loud cheering from the room drowns out her correction. Still, she feels the need to set the record straight (even if she is the only one listening). "And I'm not a boy!"

Natsu only offers her a wider smile as he announces that she can _read_.

Immediately she is swarmed, little hands taking her's and dragging her towards a bench. Their questions all come at once, their voices jumbling so thoroughly that she can hardly make sense of of one from the other. Then, without warning a large leather bound book is shoved into her hands and again the room goes quiet. When she merely gazes back at the young faces, one of the older boys in the back rolls his eyes. "Well? You can read it can't you?"

"Oh! Oh, yes," she replies, still shaking off the shock of being at the center of so much attention. Her fingers trace the embossed lettering, her brow furrowing in disappointment. "Ah, it's a book on mathematics..."

There are several groans from the older children, but the young boy at her elbow tugs on her sleeve. "What's that?"

Again, it is the older boy in the back that answers. "Boring, that's what." He pushes his dark hair away from his eyes before sending a glare Natsu's way. "Why the hell would you steal _that_."

Natsu huffs, flying over and plucking the heavy volume from her hands. "Shut up, Gray! It was one of the biggest ones! I figured it'd have the best story!"

Secluded in the corner a older boy with a frightening amount of piercings scoffs. "Tch, figures."

Lucy is still stuck on Natsu's explanation to pay too much attention to the grumpy teens response. "You _stole_ it?"

Natsu opens the book, holding it sideways. "Yeah, guess I'm gonna have to steal another one though. This stinks." He tosses it over his shoulder and Lucy cringes at the loud thunk that results from it hitting the dirt floor. "Hey, what shelf should I look on next time? Where do you keep the good stuff?"

"Good stuff?" she repeats dumbly, before his meaning catches on. Anger ignites her blood. "You stole this from my _mother's library_?!"

He must recognize the outrage in her voice because his smile quickly turns nervous, his hands raised between them defensively. "I was gonna put it back! Honest!"

She's not entirely sure she believes him. Even if she did she's not sure it would qualm the shaking of her hands or the itch to slap him. Her library is one of the few things she has left of her mother. In many ways it is more sacred to her than her mother's grave. Still, Natsu sounds genuine and she decides to give him the benefit of the doubt if only because he has brought her to this miraculous place he calls Neverland. "Why would you steal any of them if you can't read?" she hisses under her breath. It is meant for his ears only but she can see some of the boys leaning closer in hopes of catching her words from the corner of her eye.

He shrugs, as if the answer is obvious. "Because you can."

His answer is both innocent and loaded. Lucy has no difficulty in deciphering it. "You wished me to read to everyone? To tell them stories?"

"Well, yeah, but only if you want to." He gives her a sheepish smile, boyish and full of an optimism she hasn't known since childhood. "I mean, you _do_ like stories. Don't you?"

She does. However she has never been one to tell them – it has always been just her. The thought of sharing stories with someone other than herself is both thrilling and terrifying, but one glance at the sea of expectant faces gives her pause. They want this... perhaps almost as much as she yearns for their company.

She licks her lips, a nervous habit her governess would surely have chided her for, and nods. "Once upon a time," she starts, sitting back down upon the bench. Immediately there are excited whispers as many of the young boys find themselves a spot on the floor, forming a half circle in front of her. She thinks that this is how a primary school teacher must feel, and smiles at the thought. "There lived an old shoemaker and his wife."

With every word she feels her confidence grow. When she finishes the story they ask (beg) eagerly for another. She tells it willingly, happily even. She paints them pictures with her words until her voice, so unaccustomed to being used, goes hoarse. Some of the younger boys have already fallen asleep on the floor, their faces illuminated only by the dying embers cast by the oversized fireplace in the corner.

Lucy yawns, feeling her own eyelids grow heavy, and jumps when she feels a warm hand upon her shoulder.

Natsu smiles down at her – Lucy can't help but feel as if there is no small amount of pride hiding behind that grin. "Come on."

"Where?" she asks, though she finds herself standing before he answers.

He raises an amused brow. "Don't want to sleep on the floor, do you?"

She looks down at the hard packed dirt and decides that she most certainly would _not_ prefer to make it her bed for the night, and is quick to follow. "I didn't think you had beds down here," she murmurs softly, carefully stepping over a sleeping boy.

"We don't," he quips, pulling aside a large, heavily stitched curtain (though she suspects they were bed sheets at one point in time). "We got hammocks!" he says excitedly, as if they were far superior to her feather filled mattress at home. In the small room she spies several hammocks rigged to the exposed roots along the dirt walls. "Besides, helps keep the bugs off!"

She pauses, feeling a shiver of trepidation run down her spine. "Bugs?" she squeaks.

He gives a casual wave of his hand. "Ah, don't worry. Wendy keeps things clean in here. She don't like em either." He gestures to one of the hammocks. "You can take this one."

Lucy eyes it hesitantly, uncomfortably aware that it would be entirely too easy to tip and fall from the folds of fabric and make a fool of herself. She plucks at the thick cloth and gives Natsu a nervous smile (one that she hopes is perceived as gratitude instead of uncertainty) before clumsily climbing into the swaying contraption. It only takes one near fall before she graciously accepts Natsu's steadying hand – even once she's firmly tucked in she is hesitant to trust her own balance.

When he releases her hand she feels as if she has lost something, and it dawns on her that saying goodnight means saying goodbye. When she wakes the rough dirt floors will be replaced by gleaming hardwood, the dirt walls with crown molding and decorative wallpaper. Suddenly her eyes don't feel quite so heavy – in fact the weight seems to have settled over her heart instead.

He gives her a small thumbs up, rocking on the back of his heels. For a moment she thinks he looks almost shy. "Not so bad, right?"

She gives him as much of a smile as she can muster. "It's wonderful," she replies, voice barely above a whisper. It is all wonderful. The freedom, the adventures... It is all more than she could have ever hoped for. She thinks, perhaps, when she wakes up she will write every detail down so that she can revisit this place over and over. Perhaps the memory of a dream so wonderful as this can help stave off the loneliness that comes with reality.

The grin he gives her is so wide, so honest, it makes her heart warm with its brightness. Somehow he must know she isn't merely talking about the sleeping arrangements. "I knew you'd love it here! Just wait, it gets even better!"

"I'm sure it does," she says softly. She hopes she will see him again – in another dream where he can show her all kinds of adventures. Where she can feel noticed and (dare she even think it) appreciated. Desperation rises like high tide in a storm – hitting her with a ferocity and speed that leaves her cold and breathless. "Promise," she blurts, manicured hands gripping the edges of her hammock, "Promise I'll see you again? That you, and this place, will be here when I wake up?"

Natsu gives her an odd look, the bridge of his boyish nose crinkling in confusion. "Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

 _Gone_ , her mind whispers. _Nonexistent. A lucid wisp of a dream._ "Just promise," she demands. She needs to hear him say it – needs even the smallest semblance of hope that closing her eyes won't mean saying goodbye.

He pauses thoughtfully, sincerely, before nodding. "I promise," he says. "Night, Luce. I'll see you in the morning."

She swallows thickly, pulling the blanket up other chin. "Goodnight." The word tastes bitter – like goodbye – but she breathes deeply, closes her eyes, and follows the tiny thread of hope he has given her into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

In the morning, when she opens her eyes, it is Natu's grin that greets her.

* * *

 **AN:** Wow you guys! I never imagined the first chapter would get such a positive response! I'm so happy to see that so many of you are enjoying this little side project! There will either be one more (long) chapter or two chapters – we'll see what it wants to be (though I suspect probably two chapters). As always, thank you so much for your support! I always love hearing from you! I will try to update _Ignite_ and _To the Flame_ as soon as possible (I know it's been a while...)


	3. Chapter 3

_._

 _._

 _._

" _I am a lost boy from Neverland_

 _Usually hanging out with Peter Pan_

 _And when we're bored we play in the woods_

 _Always on the run from Captain Hook_

 _"Run, run, lost boy, " they say to me_

 _Away from all of reality_

 _Neverland is home to lost boys like me_

 _And lost boys like me are free_

 _Neverland is home to lost boys like me_

 _And lost boys like me are free"_

–" _Lost Boy", Ruth B._

* * *

 **(:)(A)(:)**

 **Neverland**

 **Chapter #3**

 **(:)(A)(:)**

* * *

Waking up to find her that her dream was very much real had both thrilled and terrified her (particularly when she remembers that she had nearly been blasted by a pirate's cannon). It takes her several days - wonderful, adventure filled days - before she begins to go to sleep with the expectation that Neverland will greet her when she wakes.

She has traded in soft fragile soles for callused feet, and her groomed hands for chipped nails and dirty palms. Neverland has hardened her in ways her home city never could. London hardened her heart with loneliness, her bitterness leaving a frosted edge to everything she touched. There, Lucy was nothing more than a soft, pretty body wrapped around an iced heart. Here, in Neverland, it is all so different. In Neverland she is hard but she is oh so warm. Here she is hard like wet sand just after the tide has kissed it. She is firm. Her stride is more confident, her shoulders held proud. Neverland has made her happy, and in doing so it has made her strong.

It's only when she sees the leaves beginning to fall from the trees that she begins to realize how long she has been away. London feels like a far away memory - the bitter taste after a bad dream. She would be happy to leave it alone altogether, but a part of her - the part that always strived to be a good daughter - can't shake it away.

Surely her father must have noticed her absence by now?

There is no logical reason for her to want to leave, but Neverland has never been about logistics. Meals are made with imagination instead of food - believe it is there, wish for it, and it will be. Cuts don't bleed, bones don't break. Things that should hurt, don't. For all the pranks and skirmishes they get into with the pirates and the Amazonians, no one ever really gets injured. Even when Juvia (a mermaid who is convinced she is trying to steal Gray away) pulls her into the water she does not drown. Having never learned to swim, Lucy sank to the bottom, sand forming clouds at her feet and fish dancing around her limbs until Natsu finally pulled her up minutes later. Neverland is a place of wishes, and as the lost boys jump from tree limbs into mountains of leaves, the beginnings of a wish is born.

She wishes to see her father.

For days she tries to shove it aside, to smother it until it ceases to exist, but death does not exist in Neverland and, like everything else here, her wish only grows stronger with time. It is not long before Natsu notices her quiet, sullen expression (a rare sight to behold since Neverland has gifted her with smiles and little else). He hovers, upside down, and cocks his head when she doesn't immediately answer his easy grin with one of her own.

"Why aren't you smiling?" he asks.

She shrugs, avoiding her eyes and hugging her knees to her chest. She still wears the nightgown she arrived in, but now a fur vest drapes over it. There are feathers and beads braided into her hair - gifts from Erza in exchange for a night of stories told around the fire. "Just... thinking."

He wrinkles is nose, as if just the sound of such a word brings a phantom taste of bitter berries to his tongue. "Well, don't," he chirps, walking his feet in the air until he is right side up before plopping beside her. "It's making you weird."

She has long since grown accustomed to his unique ability to fly, even without the use of pixie dust. Sometimes she thinks that he must be as full of magic as Neverland itself. She knows him well enough now that she no longer takes offense to his teasing. In fact she suspects that he does so with endearment. There is a mirrored fondness in the smiles he gives her; it matches her own when she scolds him for being childish. Maybe it is because he is the one that rescued her from her old life, or perhaps it is his special magic, but of all the Lost Boys Natsu is who she feels closest to. He is her favorite person, and she feels comfortable sharing all of her secrets with him. All of her wishes.

"I want to see my father."

His easy grin slips, his gaze faltering. "What? Why?" His brow creases, hurt with an edge of betrayal sharpening his irises. "Aren't you happy here?"

"I have never been happier," she says truthfully, holding her knees a little tighter.

His confusion is evident. "Then why would you want to go back?"

She picks at the laced hem of her nightgown. It is stained brown from Neverland's rich earth, and frayed by the bark from its branches. "I don't know," she admits softly.

He shakes his head, and Lucy doesn't think she's ever seen him look so lost. It doesn't suit him. He isn't, and never shall be a Lost Boy. He is more than that. He is the one that makes them _found_. "I don't understand."

"I don't either." All she knows is that she feels that she must. There is a burning where her heart should be, an urgent need to know if she has been missed. A guilty part of her desperately hopes that she has.

She expects Natsu to offer to take her home – he is always catering to her whims, making adventures out of her wishes – but no such offer comes. He sits, heels digging into the forest floor and looking far too grounded for a boy that flies. Eventually he stands, and Lucy can't help the way her heart mourns over the disappointment she can see weighing down on his shoulders. "The others are probably looking for us."

He has never cared about the others before, has always encouraged her to hide in the treetops with him when they came looking so they could quietly giggle at how clever they are. When he offers his hand to help her up it feels like an apology, and Lucy quickly realizes that she has wished for perhaps the only thing he will not give her. For the first time since arriving in Neverland she feels tears stinging her eyes.

She doesn't take his hand.

The rest of the day she can feel his careful gaze following her, but she doesn't speak to him. She doesn't speak much to anyone. She is too distracted by the jumble of half formed plans cluttering her mind to pay much attention to anything else. When night falls and everyone retires to their respective hammock, her bare feet creep across the dirt floor until she finds herself in Natsu's personal room. She is grateful to find that he is no where in sight, and blesses her luck when she finds his extra stash of pixie dust is still in the chest he showed her. She thinks of only taking some from the leather satchel, but she doesn't know how much she will need. So, murmuring an apology under her breath, she takes it all.

She runs. Twigs break and snap beneath her feet, leaves whip past her face, and vines tangle in her legs. She knows this trail by heart, has followed it on even the darkest of nights without fail, but now she finds herself stumbling on raised roots that shouldn't be there. For a wild moment it is as if the island itself is against her, but it is too late for her to turn back. The bag of pixie dust is heavy in her hand. She knows that after tonight she will not get a second chance.

Tripping, she throws her hands in front of her – hissing when the landing skins the heels of her hands. There is a tearing sound that tells her she has ripped her nightgown, but she no longer cares. Above her is open sky, in front of her is a sheer drop and the sound of waves crashing along the rocky cliff. She has made it. Urgently, she stands, the stars winking down on her in encouragement as she sprinkles the golden dust over her head and shoulders. Back in London, in her molded prison in the shape of a bedroom, she had no happy memories to lift her, but she has no such struggle now. She thinks of how warm the sand feels on her bare feet, the joy of jumping and kicking through piles of leaves that are taller than her, and the kiss of salt on her lips after splashing in the ocean. She thinks of the Lost Boys and how, without hesitation, they accepted her until the loneliness she had felt seeped from her bones.

She remembers her first flight with Natsu; remembers the feeling of clouds sifting through her fingers and of freedom weaving through her hair. She remembers how he made the lost girl she was feel like she'd finally been _found_.

When she dares to open her eyes the ground is more than twenty feet below and growing farther. There are dozens of things she should be afraid of – falling, the echoing shot of a pirate's cannon, becoming lost. But Neverland – _Natsu_ – has taught her that the only thing worth fearing is the adventure never taken.

When she is just about to reach the clouds she hesitates. Beneath her she can see the moon reflecting off the water and the warm light from Captain Makarov's ship glows in the distance. She whispers a goodbye under her breath, and promises to return.

* * *

London should be hard to find, but it isn't. Lucy thinks that there must be more magic in the pixie dust tangled in her hair than she ever thought. It is as if it knows where she wants to go, and suddenly she is looking down at her childhood home. It is still dark, the moon reflecting off the wet cobbled streets. Here, in her old neighborhood, all is quiet; but she can hear the distant shouting of men working on the docks at the East End and knows that (despite the moonlight) she has arrived in the early hours of the morning.

Her bedroom window is closed, but there is a light on at the other side of the house – peaking behind an iron balcony. Her father's study. Her teeth sink into her lip, anxiety and fear striking her with such force that for a moment she nearly plummets to the ground under its weight. She catches herself, screwing her eyes shut and pushing the thought of her father aside. Behind her lids she sees Natsu's grin, feels the phantom warmth of his hand in hers, and feels herself slow to a stop. When she reopens her eyes she is level with the second story and peering straight past the open French doors leading from the small balcony to her Father's study.

He is sitting at his desk, the way she always remembered him. The light from his lamp casts long shadows across his face as his pen runs across the page. There is a large stack of paper to his left, and a smaller to his right – resting under his writing hand. She is familiar enough with his work to know that he must have been up all night reading over what is (most likely) legal documents and contracts. The slight breeze from the open window teases the edge of the paper, but isn't enough to give it flight. Lucy hesitates in the doorway, toes touching down on the wooden floors as the magic leaves her, and waits.

He doesn't look up.

She is as invisible as the night she left. Emotions - so long suppressed - swell and rise until the intensity almost chokes her. She is tired of being ignored by him; sick of begging for scraps of his attention. She marches towards him, bare feet slapping against the floor and hands fisting at her sides. Soon she is hovering over his desk – over him. "Did you even notice I was gone?" she hisses. "Do you even care?!"

Her father remains silent. He doesn't flinch, doesn't turn his head. He gives no sign of having heard her, but Lucy knows that he must have. Like her anger, her voice has risen in volume. She is not the meek voiced little girl that lived here only months ago. The sound of his pen scratching against the paper continues, and she feels every last shred of patience leave her.

She is done being ignored. She won't allow it. Not any more. She deserves better.

She screams, voice filling the small room, "Look at me!" Still, her father doesn't so much as spare her a glance, and in her fury she finds her hand raising – desperate to be noticed – before coming down upon his face.

Her hand passes through his cheek, and her heart freezes in her chest.

On the paper the pen keeps scratching.

"Daddy?" She whispers. Suddenly she feels so small, so weak. All the strength she thought she had found in Neverland is suddenly nowhere to be found. Her father doesn't answer, but Natsu does.

"He can't hear you," he says softly, body framed by the open doors behind her. "He hasn't been able to for a while now."

She clutches her hand to her chest, feeling a trickle of fear beginning to poison her veins. "What have you done?"

Natsu hesitates, his expression full of pity. "I didn't."

He looks and sounds sincere, but she isn't ready to believe him. "Then why can't he see me?!" she exclaims. She is shaking, and she feels as if her skin is rattling around her bones. There is a truth cowering in the corner of her heart, a dark place she dares not shine a light on. "Why can't he hear me?!"

"Because we aren't real," he answers soothingly, he gestures listlessly to the walls around them. "Not here." There is pain in his expression – regret – and somehow Lucy knows he means more than just this room; this house. His eyes flick to her father. "Not to him."

It can't be. She doesn't believe him. She refuses. In her chest she can feel her pulse racing so quickly she swears she can feel her heart knocking on the inside of her ribs. Natsu reaches out to her, and even though she knows he is trying to offer her comfort she turns and she runs. She runs away from the him, away from her father, away from the house she grew up in.

Streetlights pass above her - one, then two, then three, until she loses count. People, are starting to filter into the streets. She is a mess of tears, with her nightgown shredded and her feet bare, and she should draw every one of their attention but she does not. The look past her, around her, as if she is invincible. She falters, standing numbly as Natsu's words echo through her. _Not real. Not real. Not real._

But he's wrong. Everything _feels_ real. Again, she runs but this time she has a destination in mind. Beneath her feet she feels the stinging slap against grime covered cobblestone; she feels the bite of cold iron as she throws open the ornately decorated gate and the frosted grass between her toes. Soon she is standing in front of her mother's grave, panting.

Beside her mother's name is her own. Lucy Heartfilia. Beloved daughter.

Her knees, weak and trembling, give out, and the cold ground draws away any lingering warmth she felt. The warmth of Neverland has never felt so far, but she can sense Natsu behind her – hovering at a respectable distance. Through her tears she realizes that it is fitting. She is lost now more than ever; who else should find her if not him? The finder of Lost Boys.

For a long time she can't say anything. Tears roll down her face, streaking her cheeks and hiding in the corners of her mouth until all she can taste is salt. "The other children," she whispers, "are they -?" She can't finish – can't say that word until she can convince herself to believe it – but Natsu understands anyway.

"Yeah," he answers softly, sadly. "Everyone at Neverland is."

She nods, more tears slipping from her eyes. She wipes them away quickly with the back of her hand. "I don't understand," she breathes, feeling her voice catch. She looks at him over her shoulder, not surprised to find him sitting on one of the headstones. She hopes the deceased won't take offense. "Are you an angel?"

Natsu shifts uncomfortably. "No - at least I don't think so? I don't talk to God or anything like that." He shrugs. "I just, I find the lost children and guide them home."

She shakes her head. "But Neverland... the pirates..."

"They were children at heart," he explains, as if it all so very simple. When she still looks confused he sighs. "It's all just a game, Lucy. Neverland isn't-" he seems to grapple for the right words, "It's a place where kids, even the adult kind, can have the adventures they always wanted but could never have. It's a place where an orphan can be a mermaid, or a starved farmer can be a pirate."

She thinks of how Neverland grants even the smallest of wishes, of how imaginary food is filling, and how happy thoughts are the main ingredient for flying, and feels like she may understand. "And they all just, stay there? Forever?"

He comes to sit beside her, on the ground for once instead of floating inches above the ground like he is prone to do. Seeing the pensive look on his face, Lucy wonders if it's because of her. If her tears have robbed him of his usual grin, and carefree way of flying. "For as long as they want," he says carefully. "Some grow up and move on, but only if they want to. Neverland is about freedom, not... it's not a cage." The look he gives her is imploring. "Do you understand?"

Chin quivering, she nods shakily before sniffing and wiping her nose with the back of her hand. High society London would be aghast by the action but, well, she doesn't belong there anyway. Not anymore. "Can I at least say goodbye?" she asks, heart aching.

He doesn't even hesitate. "Of course, Luce." Standing, he offers her his hand.

This time, she takes it. His palm is warm, and so very real beneath her own. Her grip tightens, anchoring herself to him, as her toes leave the hollowed ground beneath her.

Maybe it is because she is still numb, or maybe Natsu just travels faster than she does, but she finds herself staring back into her father's study before she can prepare herself. The moment they land on the balcony, she has to fight off a whole new wave of tears. Natsu gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, but waits patiently for her to enter through the open doors.

Her father has changed. In the lamp light she had thought his hair was blonde, but looking closer she can only see gray. There are lines around his eyes, weighing on his brow, that speak more of loss than happiness. When he is not writing, his hand trembles. Lucy wonders how she had never noticed – wonders if it was magic or her own disregard that blinded her.

Natsu's hand slips from her own as she steps toward her father's desk. She hadn't bothered to look before, but now when she looks down at the neatly stacked papers her heart _aches_. They aren't the documents she assumed, they are memoirs. His memoirs. She sucks in a breath, turning her gaze. It doesn't feel fair to read what isn't meant for her. Besides, she has a feeling it would only make leaving harder. Gently, she presses her lips against his stubbled cheek. She tries to ignore the way his pen stops scratching, whispers a goodbye even though she knows she's the only one that can hear it.

"This doesn't have to be goodbye forever, you know," Natsu murmurs, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as she returns to his side. "I'll take you to come visit if you want."

Lucy looks at her father. He has his hand placed gingerly against his cheek, fingers grazing the spot she left a kiss. Tears, like her own, are running down his cheeks.

"No," she chokes out. Her throat feels raw - like she swallowed glass. "I can't." She is hurting him by being here. The years that she lingered helped form the broken man in front of her. Her staying would only ensure that his wounds stay open - festered and infected. She needs to let him heal. She needs to let him go.

Natsu doesn't respond, but as they step out onto the balcony she thinks she sees approval in his gaze.

Outside the air is beginning to warm. Dawn is breaking over the horizon and light is beginning to paint the streets. Something in her stirs – the heaviness in her limbs ease, and the grief smothering her heart lifts away. Natsu is grinning at her, as if he always knew it would. Then again, she thinks, maybe he did. She remembers how, in front of her open window, she had given up before even trying – how her spirit was too heavy to fly without his help – and suddenly understands.

Before, she had brought her past with her. She hadn't let go.

She hadn't said _goodbye_.

Warmth fills her, and it is like she is back on Neverland's beaches with her feet buried in the sand and the sun tangled in her hair. She is ready to move forward – ready to fly. She thinks that this feeling, this _freedom_ , is what people mean when they say "rest in peace".

Natsu offers her his hand, feet already hovering inches off the ground with a smile as bright as the approaching sunrise. She takes it. His fingers are callused and rough but oh so warm, and it prompts her to weave her fingers with his. A wish is teasing at her heart; whispering encouragements and hinting at possibilities. Her thumb traces the lines of his palm. "Natsu... when you said that people only leave Neverland when they grow up, what did you mean?"

He shrugs his shoulders, seeming confused that she even cared to ask. "Just, that they move on. They move forward."

She nods, still staring at their joined hands. "So, if I were to do something more grown up... Would I have to leave?"

He gives her a lopsided grin. "Only if you want to." His smile fades, worry (and perhaps even an edge of panic) darken his eyes. "You don't want to - do you?"

She shakes her head. "No. I want to stay with you," she answers, stepping up onto the railing with his help and balancing on the decorative iron. She means it. She wants to stay with him for as long as the fates will let her. He makes her happier than anyone else can. Beneath her breast she can feel her heart fluttering in nervous anticipation. "It's just, I want to give you something, but I was afraid it would make me too grown up."

He pivots until he is floating in front of her and grasping both her hands in his. The smile he gives her is full of boyish excitement. "Don't be weird, Lucy! If you want to stay, then you'll stay."

She smiles, wordlessly sliding her hands from his grip before placing them on either side of his face. The last thing she sees is his baffled look before she closes her eyes and draws him closer. She should feel scared to be making such a bold move, but her time in Neverland has taught her better. Their lips brush, the sweetest of pressure, and Lucy feels his small intake of breath.

When she pulls away, he is looking at her with a kind of awed amazement that makes her whole body warm. "Wow," he breathes. "What was that?"

"A kiss," she answers, her hands still cupping his cheeks. She can feel his flush beneath her palms.

"A kiss," he repeats, as if testing the word. "I think I like it," he declares, hands finding their way to her waist while his gaze drops to her mouth. "Maybe I can give you one? Once we're home?"

Home. She's certain that there has never been a word so sweet. "Yes, Natsu. Let's go home."

* * *

 **AN:** *mic drop*

(Seriously, did anyone suspect something along these lines? I'm curious.) Also you have no idea the pain I endured today to get this bloody thing on this freaking website I swear to god.

Now that this is wrapped up, _To the Flame_ is up next for an update.

As always, thanks to all of you who take the time to review! You're literally the only reason these things ever get finished.


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